Agent At Home
by Sim Spider
Summary: Tag to Agent Afloat. Mostly fluffy team bonding, some plot suggestions, and, predictably, lots of Tony. No ships.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own it

Disclaimer: I own nothing; not even a miniature imitation Bert (sigh).

A/N: Told you I'd have to write something on Agent Afloat. This will be a quick little story; probably about three chapters of tags and missing scenes. Those of you following my Lost trilogy, don't worry, I haven't forgotten you. The new chapter should be up at the weekend.

Agent At Home

Gibbs couldn't seem to stop smiling. He had them back; all his people, home where they belonged. DiNozzo, David and McGee; although he was going to kill Ducky if he mentioned anything about an A-team in Tony's hearing.

It had been far too quiet for the past few months; even when he had McGee and Ziva, all of them had been keenly aware that there was a big hole in their team.

Tony had always been larger than life. Gibbs had missed him intensely; the younger man had been constantly at his side for so long he'd forgotten what it was like before they'd met. The long missed sound of him bickering with Ziva over those pictures on his wall brought back fond memories of Kate and the infamous Wet T-shirt Photo, flowing over him like a balm.

Gibbs' smile faded a little as he glanced up at the balcony, where Vance leaned on the railing, watching his team's happy reunion. There was something going on in the man's head that he hadn't figured out yet.

But he was going to find out.

"He had a picture of you too, Abby; fully clothed," said Ziva acidly.

"You did? It wasn't the one in my Halloween costume, was it?"

"No; just you making your labcoat look as good as only you can."

"Oh, Tony!" Squealed Abby, hugging him with even more enthusiasm, if possible. "That is so _sweet_! C'mon; I wanna show you my Tony shrine and you can say hi to Bert while you're there. And I have pictures of the bowling tournament!"

"Really? Do you still wear those cute little outfits?"

"Of course!"

"Then lead on, my Lady of Forensics." DiNozzo offered his Goth friend his arm in one of those courtly old fashioned gestures he adopted from time to time. She took it, beaming.

"Why thank you, Sir Anthony," said Abby, before practically dragging him to the elevator.

"Sir Anthony?" Said McGee, incredulously, as he and Ziva followed.

"You must remember, McGee, that in medieval times, most knights were rich playboys who spent their time drinking, showing off and catching venereal diseases," remarked Ziva.

"Oh. Well, in that case, I think it kinda suits him."

"Hey! I heard that, Probie!"

Gibbs grinned. All was right with the world.

Some hours later, and the chatter that had at first been so soothing to Gibbs was beginning to get on his nerves.

"All right, that's enough," he told the group, silencing Abby's excitable babbling. "Go on; go home, all of you. DiNozzo'll still be here in the morning."

"Oh, but Gibbs..."

"Go, Abby," he said firmly, fingers flickering slightly as he signed _'I'll look after him.'_

The whole team recognised that tone. They made their goodbyes; another hug from Abby, a warm handshake from Ducky, a dry comment from McGee and one of those too- intense looks from Ziva. Gibbs really was going to have to talk to her about that.

And then finally, it was just him and Tony, alone in the bullpen, as it had been so many nights before. Tony had spent several minutes earlier adjusting his chair; he'd managed to get it just as he liked it, so it would allow him to sit back with his feet on the desk.

"You planning to go home anytime soon, DiNozzo?"

"I'll get around to it."

"Your car still in long term parking?"

Tony grimaced. "My poor girl; after all these months sitting still, she'll need a hell of a lot of TLC before I can drive her anywhere. That's if she hasn't managed to get stolen."

"Yeah; that's about what I figured. Your place habitable?"

"Probably not. I didn't expect to be back for another three months at least."

There was a pause as the pair simply locked eyes, each knowing exactly what was going to happen but neither wanting to vocalise it.

Gibbs had missed this so much; he decided to give Tony a win.

"You wanna stop for pizza on the way?" Asked Gibbs casually.

Tony bolted upright. "Real pizza! I haven't had real pizza since I left, boss! The Regan had soggy deep pan with no spices in the sauce and the worst cheese I have ever tasted and don't even get me started on what the Seahawk guys called the finest food known to man; tasted like someone had already eaten it..."

"Take that as a yes," said Gibbs, amused. "Call ahead and order. I'll be done here in a few minutes."

Tony was already scrabbling for his cell and dialling his favourite pizza parlour. Apparently, he'd been missed there nearly as much as at work; he held a lengthy and enthusiastic conversation with the owner, mostly in Italian, while Gibbs finished up what little he'd got done today.

Predictably, he simply strode towards the elevator when he was ready, calling back,

"Today, DiNozzo!"

Tony swiftly said his goodbyes, and hurried after him with a reply of

"On your six, Boss!" He skidded through the doors just before they closed; and Gibbs decided that just for letting him hear those words again, he was going to let DiNozzo pick out the beer.

Tony leaned back against the banister and closed his eyes, listening to the familiar swish of sandpaper over wood. He still cradled a nearly empty beer bottle in his hands as he sat on his usual stool; of all the things he'd missed while he was away, this was the most important. Just sitting in the sawdusty sanctuary of Gibbs' basement, not needing to talk; just to sit; just to _be_.

"You still awake over there, DiNozzo?" Asked Gibbs, lips twitching in amusement as he observed his agent's total relaxation.

"Meditating, Boss," Tony replies calmly, not even opening his eyes.

"About anything in particular?"

"Mostly how good it is to be home."

"Good to have you back, Tony."

The ex-cop's eyes snapped open. "Really?"

"Yeah; Abby's been badgering me about you for months. And I wanna know why you keep getting calls to your desk phone from women."

"I do?" He asked, eagerly. "Did you take any numbers?"

Gibbs paused in his work to give him an incredulous look.

"Oh; right, yeah. You wouldn't do that. It's just..." Tony sighed right from his toes. "It's been a really, really long four months, Boss."

"Well, yeah, DiNozzo; I'd noticed," said Gibbs, with a touch of fondness, as he caressed the piece of wood he was carving with one calloused hand. "Leon tell you why he let you leave the Seahawk?"

"Not really. Did tell me why he sent me there in the first place, though. Not sure if he was telling the truth or not."

"Yeah? What'd he say?"

"Well..."

New chap up... err, probably tomorrow. Let me know what you thought.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own it

A/N: Many, many thanks to those of you who reviewed the first chapter. Here's a missing scene from the episode; when Vance tells Tony he can have his old job back.

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Vance looked up from the file he was reading when he heard a knock on his door. "Enter."

The lanky figure of Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo stepped cautiously into the room. Vance took a few moments to study him. Thinner than he remembered; older and more serious looking, too.

"You wanted to see me, Director Vance?"

"Special Agent DiNozzo; how's life at sea?" He asked, waving the younger man into a chair.

"It's... consistent."

"By which you mean you're bored out of your mind?"

"Well, I wouldn't say out of my mind, Director... Oh, yeah. Actually, I would."

"Good. That's why I assigned you to a carrier in the first place."

"To bore me?"

"To rest you. Your fitness reports haven't been above average since you had the plague, DiNozzo."

The humour died from his eyes. "They're still good enough to qualify for field work, sir," he said stiffly. "I haven't had any health problems..."

"Yet. When was the last time you took a vacation, DiNozzo?"

"Uh..."

Jeanne in a bikini, on a beach in the Bahamas; dancing the night away and then watching the sunrise over the ocean...

"It's been a while, Director," he admitted.

"More than twelve months; and I happen to know you were using the time to work on the Grenouille case. You've been pushed hard the past few years."

"I can handle it."

"Chasing after Gibbs is more than most can manage; you completed multiple undercover operations at the same time. You done anything at all except work in the past seven years, DiNozzo?"

"You are kidding, right?"

"Oh, yes; the famous DiNozzo reputation." Vance eyed him up and down, as if trying to decide how many of the stories were true. "I don't buy it. I've done some checking of the security logs; and no one can date that much when they spend half the night at work."

"I'm slow at paperwork."

"That why you spend every Christmas and Thanksgiving in the office, too?"

"You say that like I'm the only one."

"Gibbs, I can understand; bad memories and all that. But you... You actually log more hours than he does."

"That a crime?"

"Should be. My wife gets pissed if I work one twelve hour day."

"Yet another reason to be glad I'm not married."

"Are you?" A flicker of surprise crossed Tony's game face. "Even Gibbs has his boat to distract him; apart from the occasional fling, you don't appear to have a life outside this building. No contact with your family, no steady relationships, not even a hobby. You don't take your vacation time, don't take your sick leave, don't even take enough time to sleep at night."

"Is all this leading up to something, Director, or should I just go repack my bags now?"

"I sent you to sea to do nothing, DiNozzo. You haven't stopped working in so long you've forgotten how."

"So, why didn't you just give me leave?"

"Because you'd still have been close enough to show up anyway. On a carrier, it's tough even to call; let alone follow cases. I know how hard you work, DiNozzo; had two good agents burn out in San Diego last year doing half what you do. This agency has invested a lot in you; I didn't want it going to waste."

Tony's eyes glittered a little oddly. "That the only reason, _Director_?"

"Gibbs thinks I sent you away to punish you for the mess in LA. Take it that's what you thought too."

"Crossed my mind. Once or twice."

"He's wrong," Leon informed him firmly. "If anything, the last four months were a reward for all the long service you've put in."

"If that's your idea of a reward, I'm looking forward to a punishment."

"You were following direct orders in LA; and in the Grenouille investigation. Not your fault they were bad orders."

"Nuremburg defence? That never works."

"Every once in a while." Leon paused. "I did have one ulterior motive. Gibbs."

"What about him?" Tony asked, cautiously.

"You're more than capable of being a team lead, DiNozzo; all you need is a little confidence in your own judgement without Gibbs there to hold your hand. Few months at sea working independently's just what you needed. Plus it gave you time to get your strength back without being overtaxed."

"You really think spending four months completely cut off from everyone I know right after I got my Director killed was the best thing for me?"

"Jenny got herself killed. If she'd used you and David instead of Franks, she'd still be here."

"Ziva wanted to go find her. I was the one who didn't want to get involved. If I hadn't been so resistant, we might have been there in time..."

Vance cut across him. "Did you know Jenny was sick?"

"She seemed fine," said Tony, confused.

"She wasn't. Six months left, if she was lucky. She chose to go out in a blaze of glory, DiNozzo; and she didn't want to get either of you killed too."

Tony's eyes narrowed. "How long had she known?"

"No idea. But I'm guessing it was right around the time that your undercover operation went south."

There was a pause, as Vance and Tony simply studied one another, each trying to judge the other's expression.

"I'm going to make a deal with you, DiNozzo," the Director informed him slowly. "You can come back as Gibbs' Senior Field Agent; as long as you agree to cut down on your hours."

"And if I don't?"

"Clearly, you can't work with Gibbs. I'll have you permanently assigned someplace else. Europe, maybe. It's your call."

"Then I guess I'm going to have to buy a place with a basement to build my boat in," said Tony slowly.

"Good. Here's your orders; reassigned to DC, effective immediately." Vance signed them with a squiggle and held them out.

"Welcome home, Special Agent DiNozzo."

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I know there's a lot of people out there who think Vance is a bad guy; I'm currently on the fence. But either way, he is very logical; and logical people do nothing for no reason. I think this is a plausible scenario for what he might _tell_ Tony; whether he's being entirely honest... well, I leave it up to you.

Let me know what you think.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own it

A/N: Wow! You guys really love talking about Vance's possible evil-ness.

This was going to be one chapter; but it got long, so I split it up.

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"He's right, Tony," said Gibbs. "You work too hard."

DiNozzo's mouth dropped open.

"Either I just slipped into the Twilight Zone or all those months listening to jets take off six feet above my head have done serious damage to my hearing."

"Yeah?" Gibbs approached him, mug of bourbon in his hand. "You hear that, DiNozzo?"

He looked worried. "Hear what?"

Gibbs smacked him on the back of the head.

Tony relaxed even further, if possible. "Loud and clear, Boss."

"Won't be your boss for much longer, DiNozzo. Sounds like the Director's got plans for you."

"I've had enough of other people's plans to last me a lifetime," said Tony bitterly.

"Vance wants to promote you," replied Gibbs, easing himself down onto the crate beside his senior agent, shoulder to shoulder. "I'd call that a good plan."

"Jenny wanted to as well. I... turned down a team lead after you got home from Mexico, Boss."

"Why the hell'd you do something as dumb as that?"

"I was needed here. Jenny needed me to chase her Frog, the team needed me to make everything normal again and you needed... uh..."

"What did I need, Tony?"

"You... were still having a few problems with your memory, Boss. Nothing major; but Ziva hadn't been with us that long and Probie couldn't handle you being less than your best and... it was Rota."

"Too far from home," said Gibbs, distantly.

"Yeah. I like things just as they are, Gibbs. Never been one for trying to climb the promotion ladder. Too much ass kissing and not enough fun."

"You ever known me to kiss ass, DiNozzo?"

"No; but you're one of the best, Boss. You didn't need to kiss anything to get where you are; and you like it enough that you won't let anyone promote you."

"You think I'dve kept you around all these years if you weren't the best?"

"I... never really figured that one out, Boss."

"That why you put in all those long nights?"

"Sometimes."

"You forget, DiNozzo; I talked to all your old police captains before I hired you. You didn't magically start working too much unpaid overtime when you joined NCIS."

"Ah. Um, you didn't listen too hard to what Philly had to say, did you, Boss? Because Captain Harding never liked me..."

"Before or after you dated his daughter?"

Tony cringed. "To be fair, I didn't know who she was... And it's not like she said no..."

"And the polaroids?"

"Uh... can I plead temporary insanity?"

"Only temporary?" Asked Gibbs with a grin, taking a long swallow of bourbon from his mug. "You've always worked too hard, Tony."

"What can I say? I like being a cop."

"And you need something to do when you can't sleep at night."

The younger man said nothing. There was no point in arguing, after all the times he'd stayed over with Gibbs. Whenever he'd woken screaming in the night, the former Marine had simply offered silent company, booze and sandpaper until either the sun came up or he passed out.

"You never asked about it," he ventured, after a long pause.

"Didn't think you'd tell me," said Gibbs carefully.

"Probably right." Tony sighed deeply. "Sometimes it's cases. Serial killers, murdered kids, rape victims I had to interview before the bruises had even shown up. Criminals I took down before they killed again."

"And the rest of the time?"

Tony let his head drop back until it hit the wooden staircase with a thunk, eyes closed. "You know about Nick, don't you, Boss?"

"You always knew about Kelly."

"I guessed. Not the same thing; I never knew her name, how old she was, what happened to her mother..."

"He showed up in your background check. Wasn't hard to piece the story together." Gibbs hesitated, aware that he was on dangerous ground. To his knowledge, Tony had never told even Abby about this particularly painful subject. He'd have to be very, very careful.

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I'm particularly pleased with the Twilight Zone line; but let me know what you thought.

Who could Nick be? Tune in tomorrow to find out in the next angst-heavy instalment...


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own it

A/N: I warned you it'd be angst heavy; it also has what I hope is a believable insight into the inner Tony.

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"_**Polo's a very dangerous sport."**_

Tony, in... err, sometime in season two, I think.

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"Were you close?" Gibbs asked, eventually.

Tony chuckled humourlessly. "'Bout as far apart as brothers can be. I was eleven; Nick was seventeen, and practically perfect in every way. Straight A's, good looking, popular, athletic; the perfect son. He didn't have to be the little poo boy; he was the star of the country club Polo team."

"Were you there?"

"In the crowd with my parents. At first, I was glad he'd fallen off; finally, he'd done something less than perfect. And then they wrestled the horses out of the way and I saw the blood..."

"I remember the screaming; and my mother running in her stilettos. I think that was the only time I ever saw either of them run."

"One of the ponies had stepped on him and crushed his ribcage. He died in front of them, choking on the blood from his shredded lungs just as my mother reached his side. Ironic, when you think about it; I almost died the same way."

Gibbs suppressed a shudder at the memory of black blood marring Tony's blue tinged lips in the isolation unit.

"That when your father hit the bottle?" Gibbs asked softly, without judgement.

"Not just him. They both needed something to kill the pain. Probably didn't help that Nick and I looked alike; I reminded them of their dead child every time they looked at me. Family fell apart; he retreated to the office, and she only lived a few more months."

"What happened?"

"You have to understand; my mother thought real life was something that happened to other people. She'd never found a problem cold hard cash couldn't fix before; and she couldn't cope. At least Father had his work to take his mind off it; all Mother had was her booze and her grief. "

"Christmas was the last straw; all those Hallmark commercials with the happy families opening gifts all together. She popped every pill in the house and washed it all down with vodka. I found her in Nick's old room on Christmas morning. She was already cold; but she looked... better. Happy, almost."

"It was listed as accidental," said Gibbs, carefully.

"You forget just how much money we had, Boss. My father pulled some strings; Catholic families will go a long way to conceal a suicide. Especially when it could damage their business deals."

"And he sent you away to boarding school within three weeks."

"Be fair to the guy, Gibbs; he had just lost everything. First his son, then his wife..."

"Everything? Did he just forget he had two children?"

"I never measured up to Nick even when he was alive, Boss; no way I could do it after he died. Besides, he was so numb by then I don't think he had anything left for me."

"That is no excuse for the way he treated you, Tony."

"So he wasn't around much; 's not like he beat me to a pulp every night for being alive instead of Nick."

"No; he let you do that to yourself. And when you did see him, you learned by observation. I know drink and women and forgetting are still the way you deal with things, DiNozzo."

Tony opened his mouth to make a stinging 'pot, kettle, black' comeback; and saw the compassion in Gibbs' eyes. He bit it off with savage force.

"What else am I supposed to do, Gibbs?" He sounded young suddenly; vulnerable.

"You're not alone any more, Tony. You don't have to rely on strangers and scotch when you're hurting. You have us."

"Somehow, I can't imagine having this conversation with McGee. It'd probably end up in his next bestseller. And Abby would cry and think she had to hug me on sight for the rest of my life. Pretty sure Ziva turned it up when she wrote my dossier; she mentioned something about having lost a sister when we first met. Ducky... well, he'd keep his mouth shut, but he doesn't need to know about my problems. He'd probably end up psychoanalysing me."

"You ever told anyone about all of this, Tony?"

The silence answered his question more eloquently than any words.

"Ah, dammit; DiNozzo; why d'you always have to make things more difficult for yourself?" Gibbs asked rhetorically. "Nick's death was not your fault. Your parents should have been able to see that there was a second child who needed them."

"I know that, Gibbs."

"But you don't believe it. Every time you see someone die, you think it should have been you. Kate, Paula Cassidy, Jenny, that Metro cop; even Jeffery White, and he was a serial killer."

"Even Jeffrey had a family. Younger sister Janet, brother in law Kyle, two nephews and a niece. If I hadn't pulled that trigger, there'dve been a lot less people grieving that day."

Gibbs reached out and grasped Tony's chin between his fingers, forcing him to meet his gaze.

"Don't count on it," he said softly.

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There will be more, I think; maybe one or two short chapters.


End file.
